milliways_bar | Entries tagged with karr

prob-japanese.livejournal.com

The door opens, as it does often.

Suddenly, there's a car in the bar.

A very nice car.

Specifically, a very nice 2008 Camaro with a yellow paint job and black racing stripes, but that's not particularly important...

...because a few moments later, said very nice car shrinks to about a fifth of its size.

It almost seems like the now rather miniature car looks....confused? Or, at least, as confused as a car can look.

Er...say hi?

[ooc: Tag at will, but I have to slowtime in about an hour until about 3 pm EST tomorrow. I'll pick up any tags I owe then.

Edit: And now I must beg slowtime.]

notjustatoaster.livejournal.com

Sharon is out by the lake at the minute she's just sitting by a tree staring out over the water. Loud sighing can be heard by anyone near by, she's very bored. She misses her Raptor, misses being able to get in the cockpit and just fly wherever she wants.

She definately needs some excitement here.

mysterysim.livejournal.com

Bella was finding her way back to bed by the light of her invisible-to-everyone-else diamond when she realized she was a little lost. She looked around, then waved at the bar's ceiling. "Uhhh. . . oouhooo?"

Well, she couldn't stand there in her maroon pajamas, fetching as the white pattern on them was. Bella leaped into the air, landing in her usual red outfit. She stood a moment, then started sobbing into her hands.

Burglars are hard things for a Sim to cope with.

Reroll tonight's aspirations!

Wants:
Talk
Entertain
Meet someone new
Flirt

Fears:

Fire!
Vermin!
Be rejected for flirt.

prototype-karr.livejournal.com

KARR is apparently pleased with himself today. The AI nudges the backdoor open with his prow and drives inside, his scanner moving a quick, happy manner. The observant might notice smudges of mud and grass on the lower parts of his prow and wheel wells-apparently, he was entertaining himself outside for awhile. He drives closer to the Bar, parking so that he can sit bakc and peoplewatch. For once, he might not mind people approaching to talk.

callsignhusker

It's not the first time Adama's found himself in Milliways since he and Hektor spoke; it's the first time he's approached the bar.

It's a surprise, therefore, when a wooden figure appears, with a note attached (the four corners of the paper have been clipped).

Adama's smile is broad (for him, anyhow) as he traces the curve of the bow with a light touch. He's not religious. He knows who it is.

A moment later finds him composing a note.

( Hektor )

When that's done, with a request for translation (if it's possible -- if it's not, Adama knows Hektor's smart enough to find somebody to read it to him), he takes a gill of golden to a table with a decent view of the entire room.

not-a-surgeon.livejournal.com

Bonnie obviously was not pleased when she walked into the bar. In fact, she looked like she'd just been pushed over the edge into pissed.

She needed coffee. And more than that, she needed to pick up her fiancee, and her laptop.

And she needed to cool down.

not-a-surgeon.livejournal.com

Bonnie was happy to come in for once. Why? Well, it might have something to do with the handsome guy beside her when she heads in. "C'mon, gorgeous. We've not been in for a while and... well, if stuff happens out there..."

Time was catching up with them. It was the right year. Starting to even be the right time of year. And Karr didn't need to be two places at once.

steadfastknight

"Interesting," said Kitt when he looked in.

This was unexpected - more than unexpected. But it wasn't a crisis. Kitt had, after all, been to the bar more than once before, and he was used to the sight. But he couldn't say he expected it to be at the back door of his house.

He was still dusting off his hands when he reached the bar. "Can I have a damp cloth please, Bar?"

prototype-karr.livejournal.com

The backdoor is nudged open, and Karr comes rolling in. Despite having been outside for awhile, he looks relatively unmarked-there's no lumps of snow or signs of an encounter with birds on him. He makes his way over to the bar, his scanner flicking steadily as he dodges chairs and patrons, barely avoiding running into pieces of furniture several times. "They've got to put fewer tables in here," he grumbles to himself as he stops near the bar, settling in to people watch. It seems like he might be in something like a good mood tonight.

frankmartin

Frank shuffles into the Bar, wearing black pinstriped pyjamas and shielding his eyes with one hand. The latter helps to explain why for a good few moments he doesn't quite realise where he is. The former... explains nothing. Frank does not normally wear pyjamas, unless he is having a special moment.

Such moments only occur when he is monumentally drunk and Frank has been in a near constant state of monumental drunkenness for a number of days. In fact, he is somehow still slightly drunk whilst incredibly incredibly hungover, but what else are you going to do on New Year's Eve with old friends you've not seen in a long time. And then on New Year's Day. And the day after. And also a good part of the next day, with only minor napping dividing the time into days.

Sporadically, Frank's brain thinks that he's getting too old to celebrate so hard, but in it's current state, it can't quite hold onto this thought for any particular length of time and is hoping that when he's more sober and less hurty, he'll remember to make a note to tone it down a bit next New Year's. Well, it hopes that until it gets distracted by something too loud, too bright or ooh shiny. Mostly this... ~~morning~~ afternoon, it's been too loud or too bright.

The realisation that Frank is in Milliways hits him a minute or two after he's automatically shuffled towards the Bar. The alarm of the realisation that he has just gotten out of bed and is in Milliways hits about 5 seconds after that. Very shortly after that, just as the Bar kindly provides Frank with the fry-up and industrial strength mug of tea he'll be wanting, the realisation that he'd drunkenly, and luckily, put on the Christmas present from Auntie Mavis* before passing out the night/morning before washes over him.

Frank is currently hunched over what might be considered to be the greasiest, most fat-filled, fried into cholesterol hell, plate of egg, sausage, bacon, tomato, black pudding, fried bread, bubble and squeak, fried mushrooms and baked beans with a dollop of HP on the side, in the universe and occasionally taking a sip of the previously mentioned industrial strength tea. He may be up for conversation, but... the mun wouldn't want to you get your hopes up. There maybe be mumbling on Frank's part and slowtiming on the mun's involved.

*Auntie Mavis unfailingly sent new pyjamas every Christmas (well, some time between August and November with instructions not to open until Christmas - she knows that Frank won't necessarily be where she thinks he is and sends his present whenever she happens to be sure of his location) with the knowledge that like her brother used to, Frank would be getting utterly wasted at New Year's and would be in danger of waking up naked in strange places. She also knew that the habit of wearing new pyjamas at New Year had been cleverly indoctrinated into both Frank and his father and being a practical person, made sure both of them were properly supplied.

Current Mood: drunk & hungover. concurrently

prototype-karr.livejournal.com

New year. Same grumpy KARR.

The said AI can be found sitting not in his favorite spot near the back door, but instead by the Bar proper. It's a better spot for people-watching, after all. And judging by the occasional rapid scanner flick, that's what he's doing-eyeballing the crowd for anyone who he knows, or anyone who looks 1. provokable and 2. unlikely to be able to vent their frustration on him. Just because his attention is elsewhere, doesn't mean that he wouldn't mind being approached. If anything, he'd appreciate having someone to talk to.

hearthethoughts.livejournal.com

So there's a Matt Parkman.

And if it's possible from Someone to cross over to the Yuppie!Darkside any more completely he's probably done so with his all black ensemble, his sunglasses (despite it being nighttime) his very expensive wristwatch and his silk dress tie.

It's black and white like zebra.

And he's got a copy of a script that he's skimming despite the sunglasses while talking on the phone.

"Leo. Leo. They want me for this part You're going to have to do more for me babe. 2% of the gross? Somebody's don't get 2%. Somebody's get more."

Pause.

"Uh Huh. Uh Huh. Nope. No way man. Not happening. Not by a long shot. No Leo. No. We're done talking. I pay you to make it work. So I need you to make it work."

He snaps his fingers, "Hey-Uh Huh? Yeah. you? You?" He points at a rat, "I need something to calm my nerves. Something loaded with caffine that everybody's drinking."

Bar provides a cup and Matt settles back, thumbing through the script and muttering to himself-ignoring the blee blee blee eminating from his pocket.

Current Mood: annoyed

notjustnarrator.livejournal.com

When Nick ventures down from his room, he is not in the best of moods. After his conversation with Puck, a few things - tiny, mundane details - brought themselves to light in his mind, and now he cannot stop blaming himself.

So he does what any sensible man would do, and orders a drink.

The drink - Scotch, on the rocks - appears within seconds, but there is something odd about it.

It's resting atop a hardcover book. When Nick picks it up and reads the gold print along its side, he looks puzzled. The Great Gatsby, it reads. By F. Scott Fitzgerald.

176 pages and two and a half glasses of Scotch later, the book hits the floor with a very audible thud.

maj-ferretface.livejournal.com

Frank steps into the bar and freezes.

It is a long, long moment later when blue eyes widen knowingly and he says, "This is a Communist plot."

He straightens his jacket in one sharp move and walks to the bar, and with every step, his voice gets stronger. "Commie plot," mutters Frank Burns. His lip curls and he takes a stool. "Commie plot."

prototype-karr.livejournal.com

KARR looks as bored as a car can look. It's not exactly an easy thing to express, given his lack of facial features, but the dull color of his scanner and its sluggish movement give it away-he's bored. The AI sits in his favorite spot near the backdoor, watching the crowd with a detatched sort of interest. He certainly wouldn't mind company-it would give him someone to talk to, after all.

hktimes47.livejournal.com

There is an a bitter assassin droid in the bar, creepily standing at a table tucked in some out of the way corner. Passing the time watching the random meatbags making small talk.

botherable

chelleuncurled

[OOM: Yesterday, Michelle only wanted to hear one man's voice.]

Michelle's dressed for work and when she steps outside her house it takes her a moment to realize she's not outside.

She doesn't attempt to order anything alcoholic and a wine glass full of milk appears in front of her.

"Has he been back?" She asks, fingertips resting against Bar's surface.

Instead of an answer, a piece of chocolate cake appears. It's as good as a no.

Michelle pushes it away gently and takes a sip of her milk.

not-a-surgeon.livejournal.com

She'd been out a while. But... ya know, that tends to happen with her. Things happen and she gets occupied and she had to look for another apartment and...

Well. Things happen.

But the bar had apparently decided it was Halloween. That was why, when she looked down to see her costume, she... couldn't really be too surprised.

"Like clockwork, huh?" she asked, in Bar's direction.

nitro-is-ace.livejournal.com

This time, Ace is prepared.

It's Halloween, Bar's in a cute sort of mood, and she's going to be doomed to the dress from hell. She has spent the better part of the day coming to terms with this, but now? She's readly.

Bring on the dress.

Boldly, Ace marches through the back door of the bar, just knowing that soon she'll be tottering on evil heeled shoes that conspire to break her ankles in new and amazing ways.

But instead...

"Too briiiiight..." Whimpers the small ball of black and gold fur from the floor as Ace huddles, covering her eyes and ears.

Golden eyes, furry ears.

Ace really hates Halloween.

prototype-karr.livejournal.com

KARR drives into the bar from the lake, only to quickly find that he isn't exactly driving any longer. Instead, he's floating a few inches off the ground.

It takes a few moments for this fact to sink in. It takes a few more moments after that for him to realize that he happens to be a piece of floor covering. All things considered, it's a good thing that he can't have a heart attack at the moment.

The still wildly flailing KARR-pet can be found near the door, managing to communicate sheer panic quite well just through the use of tassels.

action-antihero.livejournal.com

For some reason unbeknownst to him--and much to his annoyance--Jack's been Bound since the last time he came in. At least Bar's been giving him whatever he's asked for: coffee, more chocolate, the mix CD Chris made for him transferred to his iPod...

...And an electric guitar, along with a book and a DVD.

Of course as he's had nothing else to do the last couple days, he's been spending a lot of time with the guitar and the lessons. From the sounds coming from the corner booth, though, it hasn't been anywhere near enough. About the only good thing is that Bar hasn't given him an amp as well.

Yet.

Someone head over and brave the cloud of cigarette smoke to remind Jack that he's tone deaf?

prototype-karr.livejournal.com

Flick. Flick. Flick.

Judging from the speed of KARR's scanner, the AI isn't in too terrible of a mood tonight-a rare thing. He's parked himself in his favorite spot near the back door, keeping an eye on the activity of the bar. He wouldn't mind company-or at least he's not as likely as usual to threaten to run over feet tonight, if somebody tries speaking to him.

a-fairys-fairy.livejournal.com

You've heard the joke about the man who walks into a bar?

This ain't it. There is neither a man involved, nor is anyone walking. What there is, however, is a door that opens just a crack and a small, very small, fairy that flies in.

Addendum, a small, very small, fairy that flies in and who looks utterly terrified. It would seem that being transported through a hole in a tree trunk that's always been normal is more than a little distressing. Of course, it's hard to blame him - he's not even five inches tall, a height that the majority of people here are decidedly exceed.

Pips makes a beeli- er, 'fairyline' toward the safest-looking place under the circumstances, the foliage of a large rubber plant. Curiosity is fighting with terror, however, and so instead of hiding behind the leaves, he sits quietly on one and watches his surroundings intently.

Hey, it works in the rain forest. Don't move, and sometimes they won't see you. That probably won't work here, since most of the bar's patrons are smarter than birds of prey and the like, but you can't blame a guy for trying.

prototype-karr.livejournal.com

KARR is feeling just a bit twitchy. Hard-learned experience has taught him that things tend to happen around the holidays, and Halloween is just a little too close for his liking. He remembers what happened last year.

So now there's a Trans Am parked near the back door, his scanning moving in a yellow blurr as he watches the rest of the bar, looking for anything-or anyone-who looks stranger than average for Milliways.

afraid-of-fish.livejournal.com

[pre-Milliways]

Dana's half laughing and half sobbing and grinning all over like an idiot when she bursts in through the door. She's also pretty sure that the gin martini she mistook for a glass of water before and gulped down accordingly is starting to go to her head; an assumption that will soon be pretty much confirmed when it reaches her attention that her control room appears to have been replaced by, well, a bar.

"Nobody move! I'm gonna kiss you all right on the mouth - where's Isaac--?"

Then her surroundings catch up with her and she stops.

"...what happened to the studio?"